sosforselflove

This is my body I have weather veins They’re especially sensitive to dust storms and hurricanes When I’m nervous my teeth chatter like a wheelbarrow collecting rain I am rusty when I talk- it’s the storm in me

The doctor said some day I might not be able to walk It’s in my blood like the iron My mother is as tough as nails, she held herself together The day she could no longer hold my niece she said “Our kneecaps are our prayer beds Everyone can walk farther on their kneecaps than they can on their feet”

This is my heartbeat Like yours, it is a hatchet It can build a house, or tear one down My mouth is a fire escape The words coming out don’t care that they are naked There is something burning in here When it burns, I hold my own shell to my ear Listen for the parade when I was seven The man who played the bagpipes wore a skirt He was from Scotland- I wanted to move there Wanted my spine to be the spine of an unpublished book My fate, the first and last page

The day my ribcage became monkey bars For a girl hanging on my every word They said “you are not allowed to love her” Tried to take me by the throat And teach me I was not a boy I had to unlearn their prison speak Refuse to make wishes on the star on the sheriff’s chest I started wishes on the stars in the sky instead

I said to the the sun “Tell me about the big bang” The sun said “it hurts to become”

I carry that hurt on the tip of my tongue And whisper bless your heart every chance I get So my family tree can be sure I have not left You do not have to leave to arrive I am learning this slowly

So sometimes when I look in the mirror My eyes look like the holes in the shoe of the shoe shine man My hands are busy on the wrong things Some days, I call my arms wings While my head is in the clouds

It will take me a few more years to learn Flying is not pushing away the ground Safety is not always safe You can find one on every gun I am aiming to do better

This is my body My exhaustion pipe will never pass inspection And still my lungs know how to breathe Like a burning map Every time I get lost behind the curtain of her hair You can find me by the window Following my past to a trail of blood In the snow

The night I opened my veins The doctor who stitched me up asked me if I did it for attention For the record, if you have ever done anything for attention, This poem is attention Title it with your name It will scour the city bridge every time You stand kicking at your shadow Staring at the river It does not want to find your body Doing anything but loving what it loves So love what you love

Say this is my body It is no ones but mine This is my nervous system My wanting blood My half tamed addictions My tongue, tied up like a ball of Christmas lights If you put a star on the top of my tree, Make sure it’s a star that fell Make sure it hit bottom like a tambourine Cause all these words are stories

se’m desfigura el cor si parlo de tu.

estic cansada, però em queden prou forces per rebutjar l’amor.